Fear Street Part Two: 1978 presents itself as a throwback to 1970s summer camp slaughters, swarmed with cold-blooded kills, a jukebox-worthy soundtrack, and self-aware imitations. Luckily enough this ambition sequel is a worthy component to its predecessor, unlike many slasher sequels… What could have been a muddled backstory is instead a richly original yet bombastically brave referential take on sunshine-filled woodsy horror.
This singing praise is no exaggeration. I was as hesitant about Fear Street: 1978 just as much as everyone else. When a new flashy horror film lands it can lose that certain spark that many individual independent films grace the screen with, but when Fear Street: 1994 arrived on the scene a certain harmony in streaming originals was restored. However, as solid as Part One was the Fear Street Trilogy director Leigh Janiak hadn’t completely won me over just yet as the trailers and teasers for 1978 promised a heck of a lot. Rest assured my initial hesitation was soon thrown over once the real bite of the film began.
The overtly effective sequel is one that proudly admires the subgenres’ mistakes and baskes in the stereotypical characters and story beats. Particularly the setting.
Camp Nightwing is everything that sounds like a nightmare to me; bratty teen hierarchies, constant group activities, and overbearing camp counsellors who in no way should be in charge. Fear Street: 1978 could be overbearing with its obvious nods to Friday the 13th, Sleepaway Camp, The Burning,andMadman, the originality aspect is a touchy point here, but what disperses from these inspirational nods is a fresh look at a supposed joyous social environment turning into an isolated hellscape painted with brutal kills and a mad axeman on the loose.
Paving the way for the final film of the trilogy is 1978’s great storytelling journey that takes the series’ unconventional time loop and creates a smoothly flowing adventure back in time. The end of 1994 saw Deena (Kiana Madeira) and Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.) under threat from the newly possessed Sam (Olivia Scott Welch). The sequel picks up straight away from the ending as they make their way to the recluse C. Berman (Gillian Jacobs), who survived seeing the witch back in the Camp Nightwing Massacre. Christine has become a nervous shell of a person, but she still musters up the courage to tell Deena and Josh the blood-curdling story of how mountains of dead bodies collected over just one night. The simple baseline of the massacre is rich and heavy with subplots and exposition, but Janiak also throws in a revenge tale of an archaic witch, ‘present day’ timelines, and looped character origin stories for good measure.
The nearly two hour runtime did not bear a grudge and weather over the course, alternatively, I would have gladly sat through another hour to grasp more and more of what the history of Shadyside has to offer.
What further tickles the intrigue is the mysterious whodunnit nature of the story, except the conundrum is not based on who the killer is, but who the survivor is. The present day Berman does not overtly reveal what her position was in the story, the only information we score is that she is one of the two sisters that the story focuses on. Across the film, we are rooting for both of them, but unfortunately, it is all wishful thinking as ultimately we know that one of them will suffer a brutal death. It is this exact toying that kept me on the edge of my seat, unlike many horror’s there is not much hope and everyone really is at risk.
Fear Street: 1978 is reminiscent of a campfire tale, one that would be told in a large group in your scariest voice, paired with the classic torch under the chin for optimum scares. It’s the perfect slasher for the new generation of horror watchers or even those who fancy something old in a new fashion.
This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.
Friday the 13th has become ceremoniously linked to the birth of 1980s horror. From amateur viewers to horror connoisseurs the character of Jason Voorhees rings familiar, primarily due to the Friday the 13th franchise spawning twelve films and the fact that altogether the series has grossed approximately $755 million, but what truly endorses the slasher’s core reputation is it’s kickstarting of sleazy, rampant, and violent horror’s that progressed into one of the most dominating subsections of the genre.
The birth of the slasher is tricky to nail, as truthfully John Carpenter brought the essentialities to the forefront in 1978 with the knife-wielding maniacal Michael Myers in Halloween. Whilst Halloween was crowned by critics,Friday the 13th was torn apart in reviews. Despite the lack of applause Sean S. Cunningham’s conduction of a summer of nightmares has grown into an absolute sensation.
The financial success of previous horror films pinged a lightbulb in a young Cunningham, who had previously worked with Wes Craven on The Last House On the Left (1972). It seems harsh to call the beloved Friday the 13th a cash grab, but at the roots, that is what it was. In 1979 Cunningham with no legal trademarking over the title placed an advert in Variety for the film (pictured above). At this point, the production team was not established, nor were any locations, actors, or equipment.
This really was a wild chance, luckily enough it paid off with independent financers flooding in to score on this soon-to-be hit. From this point on, the history of Friday the 13th was written, with the film thriving in its banal dialogue, cringe acting, gratuitous nudity, cliched characters, and jump scare ending. The corniness could be easily perceived as crude schlock, but its self-aware texture and bendy edges make the film loveable and a true iconic cult classic.
The overarching stylisation is what has kept Friday the 13th on its pedestal, primarily thanks to special effects artist and makeup designer Tom Savini. Savini was already celebrated thanks to his work in Dawn of the Dead (George A. Romero, 1978), and in Friday the 13th his talent was only further exhibited, with his depiction of some of horror’s most notorious kills being down to his staggering creations. Through his work, Jason was born. Originally in Victor Miller’s script Jason’s mother Pamela would be the sole antagonist. Her fatal decapitation was the end of the chaos, with Alice’s (Adrienne King) appearance in the boat ending the film. The ending we all know and love was nowhere to be found. That was until Savini noted that Carrie’s (Brian De Palma, 1976) jumpscare ending left a mark on the viewer.
Jason’s deformed entrance belonged to Savini, and rightly so, as Voorhees disfigured front gave a lingering spark to the film. The fear factor across the film won’t necessarily leave you with nightmares, but Alice’s dream of a mutilated Jason leaping out of the water and grabbing her by the throat to drag her down into the dark grubby waters goes straight for the jugular and ensures an impact is made.
Concerning Friday the 13th’s most intrinsically complex element is the breakage of the masculine stalker convention, as Jason’s mother Pamela (Betsy Palmer) is Camp Crystal Lake’s grounds-killer. Her motivation revolves around vengeance, as she gets her comeuppance against the neglectful camp counsellors who let Jason drown due to their own selfish desires. Since Jason’s death Pamela has ensured that the grounds of Crystal Lake were abandoned, and whoever dared to set foot on the soil met a tragic death, as revealed in the first act by the locals.
As much as Jason circles the entire franchise, Pamela is the creator of this destruction, her damning degree of psychosis is the catalyst across the entire film. As unconventional as the villain is, what we know and love about the Friday the 13th franchise is the character of Jason, that’s not to say that the deeper conceptual levels of maternal devotion are not appreciated, in fact, Part II and Part III take aim at the seedy underbelly of his madness, but in Part I there is a slight lack of flashy barbarity that Jason brings to the table unlike anyone else.
The 2009 remake targets the story portrayed in the 1980 original, but it also elicits Jason as the primary destructor. The first four films in the franchise conjure an intense mythos, and rather than banning any of this build-up in the remake, director Marcus Nispel dives into the deep end and packs these four films into one giant reimagining.
Nispel’s creates a lean, vibrant, ambitious, and dramatic take on Cunningham and Miller’s slasher. The remake is not entirely monotonous, yet the gory facade is just that, a veil. Do not expect tense thrills as this horror is not necessarily a landmark in genre cinema, instead, its consensus still remains rather negative. Certain criticised factors are understandable, but then again there are some brief and hidden moments of distinction wavering across the 1hr 46min runtime.
The first aspect that battles against the criticism is the stellar opening scene that shows Jason (Derek Mears) at his most ruthless. The film opens with a brief backstory of Jason watching his mother’s beheading, feeding his killer drive. Flash forward to thirty years later we see a group of friends as they venture into Camp Crystal Lake to search for marijuana crops. As night falls, tents are set up and their debaucheries begin, but Jason arrives on the scene and the peace is truly disturbed as the camp becomes a bloodbath once again.
Multiple deaths occur within the first twenty minutes, setting the path for the rest of the film. The opener takes great and memorable moments from previous films and amps them up to create a gritty, twisted first act. The iconic sleeping bag kill in Friday the 13th VII: The New Blood (1988) is recreated, but instead of the fatal blow being a whack against the tree, we see his victim hanging from a tree in a sleeping bag burning alive over a roaring campfire. The human-toasted marshmallow is not the only feisty punch thrown in the opening, as we are also treated to hacked-up bodies, nasty bear traps to the ankles, and a clean machete blow straight to the forehead.
Although these deaths are pretty gruesome and entertaining for fellow horror nerds, the film does reach its peak here. The enthusiasm for exhilarating bursts drops and there isn’t any remaining mitigating factors, besides the overall ‘look’ of the film, but style over substance isn’t enough to cut it.
It seems that the general opinion concerning the mixed bunch of personalities tends to lean towards the cynical side. No one is particularly likeable and minus three people, they are all extremely irritating, verging on the side of unbearable. In homage to the original, the gender roles are switched as there is no final girl, instead, we follow Clay Miller (Jared Padalecki) as he attempts to hunt down his missing sister Whitney (Amanda Righetti), who was one of the campers in the opening scene. Across his journey, he stumbles across Jenna (Danielle Panabaker), her boyfriend Trent (Travis Van Winkle), and their friends Chelsea (Willa Ford), Bree (Julianna Guill), Chewie (Aaron Yoo), Nolan (Ryan Hansen), and Lawrence (Arlen Escarpeta).
Trent and his posse travel to his rich parent’s cabin bordering Crystal Lake and soon chaos breaks loose. The plot remains very bland and overdone. We could have been spared some boredom by creating some real inner tension, and by making the characters more than just docile bodies waiting to be flayed.
Their dialogue is beyond laughable, as the majority of their lines wouldn’t be out of place in a slapstick comedy. The “stupendous” female characters are portrayed as nothing but eye-candy, and the men (besides Clay) follow them along like drooling puppies. It’s funny at first, but the humour soon wears off when the film acts like a horror version of American Pie.
The original is not a perfect film, but it is beloved. For what definitive reason I’m not entirely sure, but the creepy atmosphere, combined with good old practical effects still holds up to this day, which is only furthered by the nostalgic factor. And although the remake attempts to claw away from the typical ‘cat and mouse’ game that Jason plays by throwing in a hostage story, it ultimately falls flat.
Cunningham’s Friday the 13th is perfect for a sentimental fun watch when you’re in the mood for an energetic slasher. Nispel’s re-envision is great as a popcorn movie, but that’s it, its reputation hasn’t soared nor has it gained too much of a following. So in this battle of original vs remakes, 1980 smashes it out of the park!
Love to read more about the iconic horror villain? Check out our article on Jason Voorhees here.
The slasher subgenre has done for horror what Shakespeare did for playwriting. It’s that precise allure that accompanies the stalk and kill system, whilst revelling in motive, victim strategies, and exposing the cathartic sense of relief when a fatal conclusion is met, although the joyous reaction could be towards the killer just as much as the victim.
There’s a reason as to why the 1980s and early 1990s were indoctrinated with splatters, slashers, and schlock, it was exhilarating and constant, and now from a retrospective point these frameworks still exist, but it has become even more prevalent on the extension of tributes and commemoration.
The Fear Street trilogy displays exactly that, a keen sense of nostalgia whilst still maintaining a fresh balance of new tactics and modern archetypes.
Based on R.L. Stine’s Fear Street novels is Leigh Janiak’s ‘Fear Street Part One: 1994’ which follows an amalgamation of various books from the series to create one giant story that will be historically linked in the next two films. The basic premise follows a group of adolescents who must battle off Sarah Fier (Elizabeth Scopel), a ‘deceased’ witch who has put a damning curse on the town of Shadyside prior to being executed during the witch trials.
Although the collective outline relies upon an ancient curse placed in the 1660s, Fear Street: 1994 is very much alive and thriving. Beginning the film is a sequence that can describe the film as a whole. The opening shot sets up the atmosphere nicely, as we see book store employee Heather (Maya Hawke), working late one night in an eerily empty mall, with the only sense of life coming from beaming neon lights strewn across the food court (immediately reminding me of Stranger Things). In typical fashion, her loneliness is soon met with an alarmingly loud phone ringing, a fake jumpscare, shadows lurking, and then finally a masked killer wearing a Ghostface-esque gown appears and murders who we believed was going to be our final girl. If you thought that this sounded overly familiar to Casey Becker’s (Drew Barrymore) fatal opening scene in Scream (1996) then you’d be correct!
Feeding off of horror’s most tactful tropes is Janiak’s somehow unique crafting of frankly overdone clichés, allowing for optimal attention-grabbing moments. Combine this rose-tinted nostalgia with exhilarating characters then we really have a go-getter of a film. It’s with this that I’ll move onto my next point, the cracking twists and turns. Without spoiling any sordid details I do have to admit that I was seriously impressed with the relationships amongst the characters, with Janiak not becoming too complacent in saving who the audience is naturally drawn to, nothing is sacred and no one is off-limits.
Our motley crew of teens consists of Deena (Kiana Madeira), and her brother Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.), alongside her two friends Kate (Julia Rehwald) and Simon (Fred Hechinger) who must battle Sarah Fier and her army of killers to save Deena’s estranged girlfriend Sam (Olivia Scott Welch) from a dreadful fate. Together they make a mishmash group where none of them fall into the place of the jock, the blonde, the smart one, the skeptic, or the final girl. Yes, the tween Josh does have more criminal knowledge than the normal boy, and Deena does have some inner ruthlessness that embodies ‘the last one left alive’ emblem, but all in all, there is a clear and successful attempt at rustling up the unexpected and allowing everyone to shine, not just the ‘lead’.
Fear Street: 1994 understands it’s alterations to the classic slasher, but it also comprehends what makes the film stand out from current ‘blockbusters’, which consequently originates in the harsh gore exposed throughout. I for one have a neutral outlook on the graphicness in a horror film, there are a plethora of tense films that only sparsely rely on bloodshed to affect the viewer, and then there are outstanding films that secrete slaughter from start to finish. However, Fear Street: 1994 definitely took the visually mature path, with Janiak dismissing any prior beliefs that this would be tame in any shape or form.
The killers presented in this first entry are the Skull Mask Killer, The Camp Nightwing Killer, and Ruby Lane, all of who deliver noteworthy scares throughout. The cult-like culmination of very different antagonists could be messy if in the wrong hands, yet there’s that slight animosity that accompanies their very brief backstory that allows for their quick-paced appearances to be short and snappy, with the focus constantly remaining on the Deena and the gang.
As much as I’ve discussed this slasher aspect, especially in terms of the film’s inextricable character-based narrative, an unorthodox element that pushes Fear Street to feed off of the flexibility of horror is the inclusion of the occult. Shadyside has been jinxed by Fier’s wickedness and with that comes an interesting backstory that is nicely touched upon, but not fully delved into. However, instead of being irate over the briefness, we only end up more excited for the following two films.
Fear Street Part Two: 1978 and Fear Street Part Three: 1666 will both be released one week after another, promising much more carnage, curveballs, and adrenaline-pumping scares.
This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.
Within the current cinema climate lies a deeply debated sub section that has been seeding itself into horror for quite some time now. If you weren’t aware of it already, the interception operation of remakes has been turning every classic on its head and injecting the old with some new. Although some of the re-envisioning’s have been lacking that certain magic that allowed their predecessor to shine, many of these modern takes are rightly renowned. A prime example of this being The Hills Have Eyes.
The Carter family, comprising of mother and father Bob (Russ Grieve), and Ethel (Virginia Vincent), and their three children Brenda (Susan Lanier), Bobby (Robert Houston), and Lynne (Dee Wallace), and Lynne’s Husband, Doug (Martin Speer), and their baby Katy (Brenda Marinoff) all gather for a group road trip holiday to see the sights of Los Angeles. Whilst enroute they stop in Nevada at a dingy gas station, where Fred (John Steadman) warns them to explicitly stay on the main road, but Bob knows best and detours, resulting in them being stranded after a crash. As night falls, a sickening group of teetering cannibals take advantage of the Carter’s isolation, and assault, kill, and torture several members of the family.
When we look back on exploitation cinema of the 1970s, the immediate highlights include The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974), ISpit on Your Grave(Meir Zarchi, 1978), and another entry from Craven, The Last House on the Left (1972). These films all have a soaring reputation, and understandably so. I cannot compare idolised films such as Texas Chainsaw with TheHills Have Eyes, but I can comment upon the film as having exceptionally dark tones that keep it in the horror hall of fame. The basic premise of a suburban family stranded in the blazing desert is one that is now a trope, but that current cliché once was fresh and energising, particularly when Craven used the picturesque view to juxtapose the violent imagery.
This daytime approach was eerie. There were no haunted mansions, masked killers, knife wielding escapists, or ghostly spirits, instead it was an equally discontented bunch of folk, ruthless and ready for blood. Craven’s approach of an open bright setting is relentlessly daunting, with the sandy hills seeming endless. There is no hope of someone coming by to rescue them, there is no chance of the scorching sun cooling, and even worse, there is no one there to save them if anything goes awry…
Craven took inspiration from the story of the Sawney Bean tribe who would hunt and eat their victims. Once the tribe had been arrested they were tortured, burnt and hanged by so-called ‘civilised’ vigilantes. The synchronization of the cruel acts from the deranged, and the vicious acts from the ‘normal’ provides a mischievously deep commentary on the barbarism of human nature. Relating to this is the notion of ‘urbanoia’ developed by Carol Clover.
Here the archetypes of normality are abandoned once the city is left behind, as societal rules no longer exist, including hygiene expectations, sexual boundaries, social cues, and an understanding of clear thought. The overall ecological constraints of the world are obsolete, and it’s through this that the chaos ensues in the film between the Carter’s and their depraved counterparts.
Within this division of right and wrong lies the moral question of who is worse. Yes, the cannibals committed savage acts, yet so did the Carter’s as a means of revenge. If pen was on paper both groups are morally wrong. However, Craven carefully creates a strong character arc for the primary members of the dynasty, particularly Ruby (Janus Blythe) and Pluto (Michael Berryman), which in turn creates a slight form of fan gratitude towards their presence.
Similarly to how we fight for Jason, feel sorrow for Michael, and are cheer Freddy, it can be said that we somehow root for the fighter, no matter their actions due to the reputation that has been garnered over time. Of course the acts are horrendous, but the fight between good and evil is what we’re watching the film for in the first place.
Contrasting against this is the 2006 remake that follows closely to the original but has a stronger focus on villainising the antagonists, and refining the gritty aesthetics to create a discourse drenched in blood, dripping in backstory, and focusing on the brutality of the debilitatingly vile tyrants. The homage to the original is clear, with Craven himself conjuring the idea of a remake in the first place. Upon seeing the success of other adaptations he scoured for a director with that certain aptness for creating the absurd, which soon led him to Alexandre Aja who had recently directed the French extremism horror, High Tension(2003). Craven and Aja made an outstanding duo, with dare I say it the remake surpassing the original.
This brave statement needs backing, and although the original was not cluttered with flaws it has suffered with brittle bones as time had slightly aged it. Through no fault of the film the characters on reflection do suffer slightly from genericness, and the cannibal appearances in consideration of today’s visuals were lacking a particular ferociousness. What the remake did was hone in on what makes the 1977 film such a classic, with the financial and cult success of Aja’s vision being almost entirely thanks to Craven’s original innovation. For example, the idea of a neglected family left to become beastial is terrifying, but what if their feral nature was the result of something much more contrived?
Aja sets this tone by opening the film with a scene showing scientists testing the desert ground for radiation levels as Pluto interrupts and kills them with a pickaxe. Later on it is implied that Pluto and his clan’s deformities were caused by nuclear radiation experiments performed by the government. Across the film we are graced with multiple appearances from the deformed deviants. Their monstrous appearances are greatly effective, with bulbous foreheads and skin mutations daring us to not turn away at the hideousness of it all.
Any form of connection that was established in the original is abandoned as there is literally no way that we can relate to them. And it’s not only their physical features that catalyse detest, it’s their harsh actions that go above and beyond the remorseless activity that occurred in the original. The infamous torture scene where the Carter’s are attacked in the trailer is massively amplified as we are forced to witness a jarring scene where Doug and Lynn’s baby has a weapon raised to its infant head. Lets just say that the level of inhumanity that Aja dares to show is potent.
Furthering the peaks of malevolence is the fine detail that is sharpened through Aja’s modernisation. The defined camerawork is a far cry from the shaky pans that featured heavily in Craven’s piece (albeit it added to the exploitation). Through the tuned cinematography we are treated with stunning chiaroscuro effects during the night scenes, particularly that distressing scene where Bob meets his fatal end. The vivid visuals allow for a visceral impact that lingers long after watching.
My praise for this remake is owed entirely to the original works. Aja writes a clear love letter to Craven’s stellar execution of familial chaos. It is this clear combination of stigmatising themes and gut wrenching exhibitions that casts a carefully constructed ode to what was Craven’s jumping start to his genre defining career.
Have you found yourself aimlessly scrolling across streaming services looking for something just right, but you always end up chucking on your usual comfort movie? Well look no further! Here is our compiled list of the best devilishly dark gems across all of your favorite sites.
Netflix
1- The Invitation (Karyn Kusama, 2015)
In the sunset-stricken mansions of Hollywood Hills lies one of horror’s most foreboding, menacing and cryptically creepy dinner parties, as we see an awkward gathering twist into a fatal soiree. We follow Will (Logan Marshall-Green), and his girlfriend Kira (Emayatzy Corinealdi), as they travel to Will’s ex-wife Eden’s (Tammy Blanchard) house for a dinner party to reacquaint with old friends, but Eden and her new husband David (Michiel Huisman) have alternative plans for the evening.
What makes The Invitation so inviting is Kusama’s favouring of subtle terror that gradually unease’s the senses, rather than numerous jump scares to affect the audience. This allure of anxious situations melts throughout the film, with our own irrational thoughts about unsteady situations guiding our emotional response. The Invitation is doused in secrets, and for this reason I will remain brief, but I can reveal that this film will tease your own experiences with grief, guilt and denial to create an experience that stays with you long after watching.
2- Creep (Patrick Brice, 2014)
Creep has soared across the genre, earning itself quite the reputation, however it is nowhere near discussed enough. The entanglement of a character-based study filmed using the found-footage technique is not to be underestimated, as Creep has some of modern horror’s most spine tingling moments. The film follows Aaron (Brice), who accepts a quick job to be Josef’s (Mark Duplass) videographer for the day. Josef has been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour and wants to make a video diary for his unborn child with his wife Angela, in the form of living on past his death.
Brice toys with Josef’s motives, with the audience not being sure whether he really is this hopeless being or whether he hides a much darker secret. Either way, we know that something is not right. The film is coy with its exposition and is actually rather quiet as the narrative primarily focuses on Josef’s ambiguous speeches. Creep has since gone on to produce an equally effective sequel, and a third film is in the running.
3- Extra Ordinary (Enda Loughman & Mike Ahern, 2019)
Filmed and set in rural Ireland is Ahern and Loughman’s directorial debut, Extra Ordinary, which is a hilarious take on the classic ghost possession story. The film focuses on Rose (Maeve Higgins), a lonely driving instructor who possesses unique supernatural powers. However, her abilities have remained dormant ever since an unfortunate accident killed her father. This is until one day when the helpless Martin (Barry Ward) contacts her to banish the spirit of his annoying dead wife.
Extra Ordinary is blessed with the unusual cinematic grant to equally tackle its horror components just as much as the humour. The film packs a weighty punch, allowing for an extremely memorable watch. To meet the film’s devilishly delightful vocations is the performances by both Higgins and Ward, who together form the ideal ghostbusting duo. Extra Ordinary drives on the line of quirky situations, irreverent laughs, and most importantly good old fashioned scares.
4- American Mary (Jen and Sylvia Soska, 2012)
Gruesome body horror and ruthless revenge plots meet in the Soska sisters’ flesh hungry tale of alternative lifestyles. The film centers upon desperate surgical student Mary (Katharine Isabelle), who after struggling with debts decides to use her skills to perform extreme body modification surgeries. But, after a horrific assault, she uses her new found side hustle to seek revenge.
American Mary is as eccentric as it sounds, as marginalised subjects such as body modifications are a major driving force in the film’s innate spell of forcing the audiences to gaze upon a scary but dream-like world. The film is set in modern day, but the drastic appearances cast an air of hypnotizing bewilderment. Alongside this is the gorefest that the Soska’s do not shy away from, resulting in a perplexing, macabre, and grisly enactment of the defiance of societal norms.
5- Black Summer (created by Karl Schaefer and John Hymams, 2019-)
The slow drawling zombies of horror classics are point blank terrifying, but what’s even worse is when these human hungry beasts are rapid and chaotic. This terrifying combination is horrifically exhibited in Black Summer, Netflix own take on a post apocalyptic world. Rooted at the heart of Black Summer is a treacherous tale of a mothers love, as we follow Rose (Jamie King), who has been separated from her daughter in the midst of the zombie attacks. But, Rose rises up and struggles through a miserable journey in a bid to find her lost child. Across the two seasons the show swarms off and dips into additional sub plots, forcing the viewer to not pause for one moment. Furthering the hecticness is the frenzied camera work that avoids stillness, keeping the story fresh and alert.
Amazon Prime Video
1- The Woman in Black (James Watkins, 2012)
The Woman in Black belongs to the revival of Hammer Productions, who of course is infamous for the classic gothic horror of the 1950s through to the 1970s. Walking in Hammer’s archaic tales of haunted manors and troubled characters is Watkins’ take on the horror novel of the same name written by Susan Hill. The film follows Arthur (Daniel Radcliffe), a widowed lawyer who is sent to an isolated village in 20th century England to retrieve documents from a decaying estate. However, Arthur soon discovers that the manor is haunted by a vengeful ghost who will stop at nothing to claim back what was stolen from her. The eerie setting is beyond terrifying, with the mansion featuring some of horror’s most traditional elements, including dark hallways, ghostly reflections in windows, and creepy children.
2- Splinter (Toby Wilkins, 2008)
2008 was a year that saw films such as The Strangers, Lake Mungo, Eden Lake, andLet the Right One in regenerate the market, but one film that has seemed to slip under the radar is Wilkins exploration into contained horror, Splinter. This gem follows a young couple who become trapped in a petrol garage with a strange spiked creature that infects and almost reanimates its victims into spiky sharp beings. The story rings familiar, a young romance under threat from an anonymous force, but Splinter frays from conventions and takes the unpredictable route every time.
3- The Woman (Lucky McKee, 2011)
Lucky McKee has delivered some quality films for the genre, includingMay(2002) and All Cheerleaders Die (2013), but The Woman is possibly his most determined and ruthless film to burst out of his filmography. We follow the last remaining survivor of a cannibalistic tribe (Pollyanna McIntosh), who lives in the northeast coast, which is the same ground that the misogynistic lawyer and ‘family man’ Chris Cleek (Sean Bridgers) uses to hunt. It’s not long until Chris abducts this woman and holds her hostage for his own selfish needs.
The Woman is a powerful film that explores the fragmentation of the modern day American Dream, and the ricocheted shrapnel the comes loose when a family suffers from an internal dispute. This heavy narrative is richly involved, but do not let this fool you, McKee infuses an audacious soundtrack that keeps the film exciting, alongside this is the outstanding performances from Bridgers, McIntosh, and Angela Bettis.
4- The Clovehitch Killer (Duncan Skiles, 2018)
The Clovehitch Killer remains one of the most chilling depictions of a killer within the home. The film focuses upon Tyler Burnside (Charlie Plummer), a 16 year old boy from a strict Christian family. His life is brimming with church goings, family dinners at the table, and Scout Troop meetings. However, the harmony is brutally disrupted when Tyler begins to suspect that his role model father, Don (Dylan McDermott), is behind the murders that have plagued their small town. Based on a true story of the BTK Killer is a heartbreaking tale of deceit, destroyed relationships, and the slow developments of how repressed contradictions can make people reach their limits. The ‘look’ of the film is monotonous, with a dull colour palette and mundane situations making the harrowing storyline standout amongst the ordinary.
5- The Rental (Dave Franco, 2020)
The Rental seemed to come out of nowhere, with its toned down production allowing for a pleasant surprise. And although it was met with a fair amount of acclaim, it is still vastly criticised and unappreciated. We follow two couples as they embark on a weekend getaway to an ocean rental house. All is well, besides the landlord being rather old fashioned, however this is the least of their concerns, as they soon realise that their every move is being watched. The Rental plays on the old gimmick of voyeurism, with our instinctual fear of being watched being constantly delved into throughout the film. However, Franco does not solely rely upon this to envelope the narrative, instead there is a heavy subplot of mistrust, that not only furthers the tension, but also makes the film risky and memorable.
Shudder
1- Super Dark Times (Kevin Phillips, 2017)
Super Dark Times is a film that brews slowly, and takes its time to haunt the viewer. Nothing is drastically viscous, gory, or even wrenching, instead it plays on inner trauma through adhering primarily to a character driven story. When a disastrous incident accidently occurs, we see a close knit group of teenage boys suffer from grief, jealousy, and paranoia. The 1996 suburban setting provides a film drenched with nostalgic iconography and a deep atmospheric tone. The general synopsis is not entirely far from typical, but what heightens the intrigue is how the events play out. Nothing is bountiful, yet the ominous foreboding outcome leaves us hooked to the very end.
2- Spiral (Kurtis David Harder, 2019)
Spiral takes its presence to the extreme, with the film not shying away from the brutality that the LGBT+ community undergoes, particularly in isolated small towns. The film centres on a same- sex couple who move into a beautiful suburb with their teenage daughter, the backlash is prominent, but events are truly turned up a notch when they suspect that their neighbourhood harbours a sinister secret. Spiral has been continuously labelled as ‘Get Out meets Hereditary’, and although these are stellar films, Spiral rides on its own entirely unique path. The film is a slow burner right through to the bone, with looming presences and tormenting heights simmering throughout.
3- Prevenge (Alice Lowe, 2016)
Prevenge is an incredible example of the fear of motherhood evoked onscreen. This subject is not often tackled within horror, but Lowe proves that pregnancy is not something that cinema should only use as a minor subplot. Prevenge follows Ruth (Lowe), a pregnant widow who believes that her unborn child is telling her to kill those who played a role in her husband’s death. The general storyline of who her victims are and what they did to contribute to her loss is not really explored, with Lowe focusing solely on Ruth’s slow descent into complete madness. The film is brutally transgressive as it refuses to downplay the grief one experiences when going through a life changing event alone, especially when this was not the plan.
4- Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror (Xavier Burgin, 2019)
Horror Noire is a documentary film that is based upon the book titled “Horror Noire: Blacks in American Horror Films from the 1890s to Present” written by Robert R. Means Coleman. The film takes a careful look at the connection between how horror cinema has evolved and African-American history. Horror Noire examines how the lack of diversity seen across the industry is not only detrimental to performers and creators, but also how the genre’s history negatively portrays black people. Adding to the documentary’s exploration is the focus upon how the genre has only recently seen new additions to diversity, with the films Get Out(2017), Attack the Block (2011), and The Girl with All the Gifts (2016) being discussed.
5- Creepshow (2019-)
The Creepshow films have been fan favourites since the first release in 1982. Creepshow the tv series has a total of two seasons (with the latest only being released this year), and two special episodes. The Creepshow legacy was brought back to life in 2018 when special effects legend Greg Nicotero (known for his work on Army of Darkness, Scream, and The Walking Dead), announced that he will be producing the new show which streams on Shudder. In true form the show has stuck to what made George A. Romero’s take on Stephen King’s work so well, through the ideal mix of menacing humour and amusingly nightmarish themes.
This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.
“One, two, Freddy’s coming for you…” We all know that spine-tingling jingle that subtly defines one of horror’s most intimidatingly successful franchises,A Nightmare on Elm Street (Wes Craven, 1984). Craven’s legacy bears rich classics that have excelled beyond anyone’s expectations, with his filmography boasting titles such as The Last House on the Left (1972), The Hills Have Eyes (1977), and everybody’s cliche-twisting slasher, Scream (1996).
The great success Craven has received is admirable, yet there is an overt lack of discussion regarding symbolism and dissection when it comes to the titular character across every Nightmare on Elm Street film, the boogeyman himself, Freddy Krueger (Robert Englund). The franchise holds a total of nine films, with the first procuring the densest socio-political issues, alongside the most candid portrayal of Krueger. As the series has developed, so has the rambunctious behaviour from his character, with his later appearances emphasizing the more chucklesome and gabby side to his persona. To fully decipher what he represents we need to take a step back to the early 1980s and unravel the twisted world of Freddy Krueger.
The 1960s and 1970s brought about great change, where the revolution of attempted freedom was at large, particularly in the USA. What brought about this dire need of a system change was a generalised anger over the lack of equality, civil rights, and the state of affairs across the world. These worrisome concerns were protested by the youth of America, leading to many filmmakers who were heavily involved in these stands becoming influenced by a furied ethical climate. The consequences of this were not always directly pronounced, with a favouring of symbolism and metaphorical values. One of the most primary examples of course being A Nightmare on Elm Street. The themes are manifested almost solely through Krueger, as he embodies denial, vulnerability, dissonance, and unjust dominance.
The adaptive dream notion behind A Nightmare on Elm Street is well known. Craven had been inspired by the sudden death syndrome seen in a group of Hmong refugees, with Krueger’s stalking nature being influenced by a creeper that Craven had witnessed during his childhood. Withdrawing away from Krueger briefly is the setup that forces his legendary status; from the start, the setting is not reflected in archetypal horror locations. Instead of the haunted house or cemetery, we are presented with white picket fences in a white suburban neighbourhood. Straight away Craven is mocking the societal frame that cradled America’s elite, who would infamously belittle those who wanted to change the country’s structure for a fairer place. And what enforces the mimicry is the juxtaposition of what Krueger represents against the apparent bed of roses.
Krueger withholds his victims through their dreams. He is not only controlling people at their most vulnerable state, but when they also have no chance of escape, people psychically need sleep to survive. In the first film the lead protagonist Nancy (Heather Langenkamp), has to battle against Krueger in her dreams to prevent her imminent death. Throughout the film, their contact is initiated through Nancy’s dreams, with her actually suffering in real life with any injuries she may obtain in these dream battles. Krueger presents himself with no invite and eventually becomes such a harrowing force in her life that the lines between dreams and reality become blurred. Without going on a tangent, the dream state is riddled with our subconscious thoughts, and what we aim to repress. Krueger is a symbol of the aftereffect that is born through neglect and generational cruelty that society attempts to abandon.
Krueger’s charred skin, deep with lacerations and a hollowed complexion is not just purposeful to amp up the gore factor, it serves as a plot reaction. The brief history surrounding his origins is identified from the first film, where we find out that Nancy’s mother Marge (Ronee Blakley), and the other parents on their street burned Freddy Krueger to his death in a collective vigilante mission, due to Krueger being a child killer.
What is intentionally ironic is the reason behind his motivation and the consequences of the parent’s actions. Needless to say, Krueger is riddled with vengeance, and he wants to destroy these adolescents to fuel his sick desires and to punish their families. The adults of Springwood are villainous, not only in their own deeds but additionally through their individual downfalls, including selfishness and avoidance of admittance.
Their own matters of justice create a dark past that must not be uttered, forming an air of uncertainty and moral evilness over the town’s authority figures. Through the older generations’ actions, a cycle of repercussions has been conjured. Their children are suffering as a result of their misdeeds. Nancy and her friends are targeted by Krueger and are forced to fight it out alone, in a vicious system of repressed guilt. This fixes Krueger’s innate motive to disrupt the false civil harmony created, as underneath the façade lies a seedy underbelly.
What furthers Krueger as a direct symbol of rebellion is his position as a fully fleshed-out villain, rather than an antagonist with an anonymous aura haloing over them. Throughout all of the films, Kruger is an all-performing show character, whose infectious personality has forced audiences over time to warm to him more than his victims. Krueger represents the evil in society, but just as humans do, we cannot help but be tempted by such wickedness. He talks, runs, jokes, laughs, and most importantly toys with his victims, showing genuine enjoyment in killing his prey.
He evokes a personality, not just a wallowing killer behind a mask. There is nothing at fault with the great silent killers, such as Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees, but Krueger’s sensibility has a mysterious sense of threat that only he can achieve. He does not feed off of people’s fears as a source of power, instead, he uses that menacing allure to break down his victim’s shield. The thought of a speechless killer is terrifying, but the thought of one who plays a game of cat and mouse (just because he can) creates a daunting and disturbed atmosphere.
Throughout the rest of the franchise Krueger’s comedic tone heightens, almost falling down the rabbit hole of 1980s fruitfully humorous horror, however, his true looming nature has remained the same. In comparison to other big franchises of the genre, A Nightmare on Elm Street has fewer titles, which is mostly due to the 2010 reboot completely failing at expanding the universe. But, despite such setbacks in progression, the most pivotal element across every film is the tonal roots that the Nightmare films stay true to, with Freddy Krueger being one of horror’s most definable and complex characters.
Love to read more about iconic horror villains? Check out our article on Jason Voorhees here.
As I entered the cinema to watch the highly anticipated A Quiet Place Part III was unfortunately met with loud chatty audience members attached to their brightly lit phone screens, needless to say, my annoyance was strong.
However, the conversations halted and popcorn crunching was paused within five minutes of the attention-demanding film’s commencement. And that’s when I knew that I was in for a good time. Taming the teen audience is a challenge, but there’s only one film for the job…
A Quiet Place Part IIbegins with Lee Abbot (John Krasinski), walking across an eerily quiet town, are we pre or post-apocalyptic? Our questions are soon answered as we enter into the same pharmacy that featured in the first film’s opening scene and see Lee talk to the friendly shopkeeper whilst stomping around in loud boots. Soon after, the buzzing sound of kids shouting and baseball’s batting begins as he turns the corner, entering into a loud family baseball game where we see the loving Abbot family cheering on their son.
However, it’s not long until the real action begins as a beaming flame crashes through the sky and unleashes a hellish parade of sound sensitive beasts. The strong opening scene sets the tone for the rest of the film, which boasts constant “Dun..Dun..Dunnn…” moments. This relaying of intense scares and unpredictable character fates is truly unique to The Quiet Place films.
A Quiet Place (2018)focused on the Abbot family, consisting of wife and husband, Evelyn (Emily Blunt) and Lee (Krasinski), and their two children Regan (Millicent Simmonds), and Marcus (Noah Jupe) as they attempt to survive in this dangerous world, all the whilst having to prepare for the arrival of Evelyn’s baby who is due any day now. Due to Regan being deaf the family is able to efficiently communicate via American Sign Language (ASL).
Similarly, Part II follows the family as they reach their next hurdle. After their home and supplies have burnt down they need to make it on barefoot, with a low oxygen tank and a new-born baby. Fortunately, it’s not long until they run into Emmett (Cillian Murphy), a recluse who is still grieving the loss of his family. The story soon evolves into a triple threat as Regan goes on a voyage in search of finding a survival community, with Emmett trying to bring her back to the family, whilst Evelyn, Marcus, and the baby hideout in a risky bunker. Throughout the entire film, these interwoven segments never become muddled and always manage to successfully reunite separate themes together.
Simmonds is a pure powerhouse, with her emotionally strong and courageous performance of a determined young woman taking on Lee’s role of the brave patriarch of the family, making her one of recent horror’s most interesting characters. But, Regan shows a distinct strength of selflessness and braverythat is entirely her own, not just a shadow of Lee’s commitment. Her actions resolved my initial worries about this sequel.
When a film is so outstanding it can be difficult to meet the same level of effectiveness, let alone top it, and I believe that most of that previous impact blossomed from Evelyn and Lee’s portrayal of a tender couple trying to raise their family amongst the carnage. And with Lee now permanently absent, I was slightly apprehensive over the lack of sentiment that Part II would obviously have. Alternatively, Part II brings about an abundance of maternal care, with Evelyn giving it her all to save her children, and Regan and Emmett being one another’s grief support partner.
It would be impossible to review Part II without acknowledging the primary characteristic that swaddles the entire film, the creatures. Their exposure is much more generous in Part II, as they make a plethora of appearances throughout the entire film. Now, one creature element that I really did appreciate is the correlation between threat levels and creature exhibition.
Typically, as most recently seen in It: Chapter Two, when we constantly see the villain on screen we lose the mystery appeal, and most significantly we tire of the exaggerated emergence of the antagonist. Krasinski carefully tiptoes across this thread by placing the beasts only at the climax of the scene, where we are already on edge.
Preserving my intrigue was the lack of prototypical survivor algorithms. The banality of the norm is almost completely eradicated, the death of Lee wholly surprised me, and I was not let down by the similar risks taken in this sequel. The phrase ‘no one is safe’ truly comes to mind in reflection, not even the new-born infant is safe!
These bold screams are of course not entirely unheard of, but they are rare. However, as much as I’ve sold this as an adrenaline-pumping rollercoaster, I actually found that one of the most pivotal instances is the inclusion of Emmett, who wallows in dread and devastating loss. Emmett transitions through his character arc with ease, possibly cementing a continued role in the upcoming third film…
Although I am unable to favour one film more than the other, due to their innately alternative routes, I can promise that A Quiet Place Part II is a brave, captivating, and adrenaline pumping thrill into tragedy in the midst of chaos.
This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.
James Wan changed modern horror in 2013 with the release of The Conjuring. No one was truly expecting how much of a success this out-of-nowhere film was going to gain, nor did anyone expect the lasting legacy that The Conjuring would have on the genre. Eight years down the line the Conjuring Universe is now eight films richer, with four primary branches being explored (Conjuring, Annabelle, The Nun, and The Curse of La Llorona).
The reason for the depth of films primarily relies upon The Warren’s having explored a senseless amount of paranormal cases, reportedly in the thousands. Out of these occurrences, the most opportunistic and intriguing one has to be the murder trial of Arne Cheyenne Johnson, which saw a young man who stabbed his landlord more than twenty times plead not guilty because “the devil made me do it…
Directing is Michael Chaves who is no stranger to the Conjuring Universe after the box office failure of The Curse of La Llorona, and in true Hollywood fashion, The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It drifts entirely from the actual case. Not once did Ed and Lorraine Warren successfully bring a demon to court with them, instead, the judge immediately dismissed the claim of ‘default by possession’, but movie magic has to perform its spell to deliver.
So, in this fictional ‘true story’ we have at the roots a film that primarily follows Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson starring as Mr. and Mrs. Warren as they sieve through a plethora of ghastly ghouls whilst acting as actual detectives on multiple police cases. Matching this is a selective amount of dimensional characters, a heart warming love story, and a well-rounded look that thematically blossoms throughout.
It is undeniable that The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It has its appealing features, with one of the top notes belonging to the Warren’s themselves. Most of the runtime is devoted to them as they scour to find clues as well as reminisce about how they met; in fact we are delivered quite a warming love story.
And for me, this is what has allowed not just this entry, but the previous Conjuring films to draw fans in, we can’t help but adore a continuation, something steady to follow no matter how cliché the story gets.
However, this is not a romance film at the basis, but instead a ‘supposed’ terrifying story of possession. But this is where the positive aspects begin to wallow. Joining the Warrens are our other leads, the harmless perpetrator Arne (Ruairi O’Connor) and his partner Debbie (Sarah Catherine Hook). As aforementioned, we see Arne become possessed and brutally murder his landlord whilst in the presence of Debbie, but she stands by his claims and is at his beck and call.
They spiritually embody a younger version of Ed and Lorraine whose bond is unbreakable, and I do have to admit that I was immersed in their theatrics and their overarching outcomes did matter to me. Chaves certainly relies on fleshing out fruitful characters to deepen backstories and strengthen the spine of the narrative.
Clearly, The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It has plenty of heart, but does it have any brains? Now comes the rapid downfall that sinks in just when we should be gripping to the edge of our seats. Unfortunately, Chaves’ bad luck from The Curse of La Llorona has followed him as the scares are certainly stretched thin. I watch a hefty amount of horror films every week so eventually, I do adapt to pre-packaged plot devices, particularly the dreaded jumpscare.
The sudden appearance of a daunting image accompanied by a swell in orchestral strings has plagued the genre for a dreadful amount of time. That is not to say that jumpscares are impossible to effectively use, with some of horror’s greatest scenes deriving from the tactic, including that terrifying scene inThe Descent where the hideous humanoid appears behind a woman’s shoulder, or when the bright red demon appears out of nowhere in the infamous Insidious scene. Chaves on the other hand used them extensively to the point of being formulaic, where anyone could have seen them coming a mile off.
Similarly, the entire film’s structure could be described as exposition, silence, jumpscare, exposition, silence, jumpscare; and so forth. What happens with this predictability is the essence of familiarity, and ultimately boredom. Sitting through a film that is 1hr and 52 minutes where you can see every single climax before it even happens is challenging, but what added to this was the constant tangent that the film drifted off to.
As I’ve previously mentioned, Johnson’s possession claim was immediately dismissed as legally there was no way to prove innocence, instead, the lawyers went down a self-defense route. Obviously, if the film would have followed reality then everything would have been solved in under an hour, but to uphold feature film requirements there needed to be plenty of filler.
The gauzes to pad the film were dull, with unnecessary deep dives into other possession murder cases being explored by the Warrens. The overexertion dragged the film out until my attention had nearly completely broken down.
My overall thoughts remain unbalanced, with neither a love nor hate opinion residing. Alternatively, I enjoyed the refreshing involvement of character arcs but was entirely let down by the extraneous shelling out in an attempt to deliver a ‘wide’ film. At times films with grand budgets get lost in the freedom of finance, with a favouring in exploring dozens of locations and expensive exterior shots; whereas indie films have to be good internally as there is no opportunity to fill in the gaps with pricy stills.
A keen focus to honing in is what The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It desperately needed, and more importantly the entire franchise needs to form its dedication to the genre better and take a note out of The Conjuring’s (2013) book of expertise.
This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.
Does the idea of rabid zombies tucked away in a desolate Las Vegas thrill you? No… Well how about a merciless motley crew of mercenaries battling a zombie tiger? My thoughts exactly!
Zack Snyder’s return to flesh eating horror is a bountiful resurrection as his new Netflix flick, Army of the Dead brings in a whole horde of viewers ready to tuck in to the zombie action in its first week.
Spoilers ahead…
Snyder stormed through in 2004 with a brave remake ofDawn of the Dead. Which was a regenerated retake on the original 1978 classic directed by the ‘Zombie Godfather’, George A. Romero. It is certainly one of Snyder’s more refined films, with its success fastening a weighty reputation. Snyder’s return to zombie mayhem has done wonders as Netflix is already creating an entire franchise based off of this single film. Yes, you heard that right. Already there is a scheduled prequel, an animated series, a sequel, making-of documentary and finally a behind the scenes book. So let’s discuss why Army of the Dead is here to stay.
The film begins with a military convoy transporting a restrained zombie, but when they collide with another vehicle all hell breaks loose as this monstrous creature tears through tendons and leaves the ground stained with blood. A slew of exposition explains that the majority of Las Vegas became infected and now only a small community survives in a quarantine camp.
This setup leads us to the real action, *cue Scott Ward* (played by Dave Bautista), an ex-mercenary who has to gather a crew of military misfits to recover millions of dollars from a casino vault as part of one of the world’s most riskiest heists. However, there are two big obstacles in their way, one being that Sin City is littered with the immortal, and secondly, the government is launching a tactical nuclear bomb to wipe out the undead only hours after they plan to leave.
An area that I do have to applaud is the film’s energy. Throughout the extensive (and I mean EXTENSIVE) runtime of 148 minutes we do not really get a chance to breathe. The explosions do not stop, the guns are never not blaring and the velocity is amped up by the second. Going full throttle is definitely what Snyder does best. The theatrics certainly live up to his reputation, alongside the exciting setting, eccentric visuals and most importantly its tongue-in-cheek humour.
It’s sharp vibrancy is immediately placed down within the first 20 minutes. We are presented with the above mentioned crash scene which catalyses the zombie attack, but then we get to see what is my favourite scene of the entire film, the opening credits/montage sequence. Half-nude zombie casino girls flail around, shredding anyone they can get their claws on, accompanying this is a cover of Elvis’s “Viva Las Vegas” and a heavy dose of slow-motion shots, playing over the absolute carnage on screen. The glossiness of Vegas is certainly not lost amidst the zombies as I really believe that Army of the Dead would not have the same vibe if it was not set amongst ricocheted casinos, beaming sunsets, and decaying state landmarks.
Army of the Dead thrives in this over the top attitude. The excess is mostly found within the copious amounts of gore and pure bloodshed, which is entirely understandable in a zombie movie. Paired with the onslaught is plenty of gun-fights and innovative subplots. Although the heist aspect was done better in last year’s Train to Busan: Peninsula, it is definitely a forgiving point, as for me I saw the heist scenario just a means to an end, not an encompassing important narrative device. However, this praise is not without caution…
This is not a perfect film at all, in fact I found it slightly dim in certain areas. Particularly, the lack of character care. To connect and actually care about the fates of the lead characters is quite an important factor. Without compassion, the legacy of the film will fade rapidly. There is a clear level of tackling done to avoid any shallowness, such as making Ward a father with a brief backstory. But that’s where the development stops.
That is not the film’s only downfall, with the extended action taking sole presence over quality. As I’ve stated above, the 148 minute runtime is noticeable. The exact same film could have been told within a 90-100 minute time frame, but it seems that horde attacks and cool fight scenes were more important than keeping the audience’s attention. I’m not saying that the film is bad in any shape or form, but a sense of ruthless editing is certainly needed.
Overall, I’d describe Army of the Dead as a mix of World War Z’s fast paced ferociousness, with a fair portion of Zombieland’s humour and quick wit. The combined gorefest is a visual festival of vibrant colour and beaming lights, but just be prepared for a lack of deeper narrative.
This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.
Psycho Goreman certainly lives up to its name, awash with vivacious color and bouncy characters ready to show you just how iconic a true to heart monster mashup is!
Director Steven Kostanski is known for his horror filmography, with awesome films racking up his eccentric genre authorship, including The Void, Leprechaun Returns and a segment in ABC’s of Death 2. Psycho Goreman truly encapsulates what Kostanski does best, showing normalized chaos in a fantastical world where the story shines just as much as the visuals.
The film follows brother sister duo Mimi (Nita-Josee Hanna) and Luke (Owen Myre), as they unearth a mysterious glowing gem. At first nothing is too out of the ordinary, but later that night an extraterrestrial overlord is resurrected, who Mimi gleefully nicknames PG for short. Psycho Goreman reads just like a rad 1980s video game, equipped with shameless absurdity, an epic screenplay and a whopping great big creature to tie things up.
Without oversimplifying, the film at the heart is straightforward allowing for the amazing performances to shine with both Hanna and Myre’s sibling antics coming across as both hilarious and warming at the roots. This is what made the film stand out to me; too many love letters to obscure cinema of the 1980s eventually become muddled and confused in an attempt to create an entire cinematic universe in a 90 minute time frame. Psycho Goreman on the other hand is fully aware of its adventurous path and it fully explores that dark fantasy element that continuously appeals to viewers, without becoming too lengthy.
Accompanying this soon to be cult classic is Kostanski’s treatment of what is notoriously difficult to master in filmmaking, using kids as your main character in a horror film. The rule of ‘never work with children or animals’ seems to ring true for most, with child actors in horror being hard to perfect’, but the juxtaposition of a bestial creature aiming to take over the world whilst being controlled by menacing youths make for a delightfully ambitious watch.
The character of Mimi is unbelievably well written and embodies the role of a cheeky 12 year old with immense genuinity. Hanna is certainly set for an exciting career ahead. At one point we even see PG join Mimi and Luke in a rocking garage band session. And that’s my exact point, the entire film is fun, sporadic and completely ridiculous (but in a genius way). The thrashing dismissal to conform only furthers the charm, with Kostanski not falling into the typicality’s of these genre films. We usually see a towering destructive creature gradually evolve into their surroundings and lose their murderous urges; in short, do not expect the ordinary when it comes to Psycho Goreman.
The film reminded me of classic B-movies, prominently The Toxic Avenger, Class of Nuke ‘Em High and Xtro, with a good dose of Rawhead Rex thrown into the mix. It’s action packed, booming with nostalgia and most importantly, the effects are dynamic and striking. PG’s appearance resembles almost anyone’s worst nightmare as he dons a molten coat, hiding effervescent cracks of glaring crimson. The creature design is impeccable, and most importantly they look like they came straight out of a wild game of Dungeons and Dragons; the whole regime of monster hierarchy mimics similarities to Hellraiser’s Cenobites (another favorite of mine!).
The disavowment of high-brow entertainment basks in its ludicrousness, with Kostanski crafting a well formed comedic timing. Not only is this one of the most outlandish films I’ve seen this year, it’s also one of the most impressive, marking itself as an official hidden gem that I completely recommend.
Psycho Goreman is available now exclusively on Shudder.
This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.
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